Poems

Chapter 14: THE QUARREL

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About This Book

A lyrical collection of short poems grouped by creative periods, ranging from intimate sketches of domestic and childhood moments to meditations on nature, the sea, love, loss, and memory. Many pieces blend concise, imagistic language with prose-like rhythms, alternating playful child verses and delicate elegies, and often evoke sensory detail—light, wind, flowers, and seaside landscapes—to explore fleeting moods and inward reflection. Several poems record quiet domestic scenes and grieving recollections, while others experiment with voice and form, producing both whimsical and mournful tones. The result is an intimate, varied sequence that emphasizes emotion, perception, and the small gestures that shape inner life.

THE QUARREL

Our quarrel seemed a giant thing,
It made the room feel mean and small,
The books, the lamp, the furniture,
The very pictures on the wall—

Crowded upon us as we sat
Pale and terrified, face to face.
“Why do you stay?” she said, “my room
Can never be your resting place.”

“Katinka, ere we part for life,
I pray you walk once more with me.”
So down the dark, familiar road
We paced together, silently.

The sky—it seemed on fire with stars!
I said:—“Katinka dear, look up!”
Like thirsty children, both of us
Drank from that giant loving cup.

“Who were those dolls?” Katinka said.
“What were their stupid, vague alarms?”
And suddenly we turned and laughed
And rushed into each other’s arms.